


Slow Black, Ink Black

by EverlivingGhosts



Series: Myth [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 14:42:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11648706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverlivingGhosts/pseuds/EverlivingGhosts
Summary: It has been ten years since the fall of the Dark Lord and the wizarding world has been enjoying a tenuous sort of peace. Raised by a disgraced death eater, pure blood Hux aches to reclaim the family glory. But his dorm mate is the mysterious Kylo Ren who can do magic no child should know, who speaks of odd things and won't be woken from his frequent sleepwalking. Together, they find themselves in the fading grasp of one war and caught up in another.Hogwarts AU.





	Slow Black, Ink Black

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a series, in which In Silver (my current other HP AU fic) is actually in the middle. I decided I wanted to explain the story from the beginning, so here it is! It will document their years at Hogwarts as well as the war after. In Silver can be read as a standalone fic, but it will be weaved into this one.

The train smoke rolled across the platform, marvellous great billows of it puffing over their heads and curling around their feet. The lithe shapes of cats darted out of the white to twist around unsuspecting legs and the odd toad made a futile bid for escape. Through the cacophony of toads croaking, children shrieking as they chased each other and trunks frantically rolling across the floor Hux stood and breathed in the smell he had been waiting to smell for eleven years.

A shape hurried past them; a parentless child barrelling through the magic barrier as if all the hounds of hell were chasing them. Hux had heard the mother and child arguing on the muggle platform about whether he “needed” to be seen off on the train. It seemed that the boy had won and Hux watched the mess of black hair and too-big robes rushing ahead with grudging admiration, wishing he could be so bold.

Behind him Brendol stood with his arms crossed, grimacing at the noise and bustle of the platform around them. While parents to the left and right were bent over their children and making teary goodbyes, his father merely looked bored.

“Well.” He said gruffly, “Off to school you go.”

Hux hadn't expected much more than this. He wondered if his father had also been counting down the days to the moment that they would both finally be separated. He inclined his head.

“Yes.” He didn't know what else to say.

Brendol eyed him closely as if to double check whether he was being cheeky or not. He seemed to decide that he wasn’t and straightened up to his full intimidating height.

“You will do best to remember that the house of Hux is as ancient and noble as any other pure blood family,” He began in that grim, well worn mantra, “I expect you to understand that you shouldn't squander that nobility during your education.”

 _Yes, because you did such a good job of upholding that father,_ Hux bit back. Instead, he just nodded again.

“I won't, Father.” He assured him.

Behind them, two parents were making a very vocal goodbye to their child. It included a lot of hugging and kissing and the absurdly long-winded passing on of an owl like an ancient family heirloom. Brendol watched them without really seeing, caught up in some thought. He cleared his throat.

“Your mother,” He began, and then cleared his throat again, “She was a fine witch. She would have wanted to be here today.”

Dear god. The sentimentality clogging the air must have been more contagious than they had originally thought. Hux shifted uneasily on one foot; the unexpected reminder of his mother didn't do much for his nerves.

“I would have liked that too.” He admitted, hating this being thrust upon him out of the blue.

He strained to remember the long red hair and the kind lips that always smiled at him, but it was hard. He had been very young when he had been told that she had died at the hands of the Resistance. Too young to really understand what that meant. He had sat waiting for her by their big stained-glass window for a week and thinking how silly it was that she hadn't come home yet. She had forgotten to give him a good night kiss.

Luckily, Brendol seemed to have exhausted his sudden sentimental streak. He straightened up, eyes roaming Hux as if to recapture some whiff of the woman he had loved far more.

“Don't disappoint me.” Brendol reminded him, and then at some vain attempt at humour, “And if you're not in Slytherin, don't bother coming home.”

It didn't come out as humorous. In fact, it emerged as a very real threat that made Hux swallow and nod his head, wondering if he could become even more of a disappointment so early on in his school career.

“I'll make certain of it.” He promised, “Goodbye, father.”

And when Hux stepped away into the choking train smoke and away from his father, it really did feel like he had stepped through another magically enhanced wall. One that didn't lead to a magical platform but to the future; away from his father, away from all of that stifling expectation. He hopped onto the step and onto the big red beast, rumbling as it prepared to move off.

The first thing Hux had decided was that he wouldn't look desperate. He wouldn't beg the other Slytherins to take him in like a common blood traitor looking for scraps of friendship. The Hux’s reputation was lesser than it had been, yes, but he would not beg for attention. He would earn it through his own right.

However, the talk with his father had meant that he was a little late on getting on the train and most of the carriages had already filled up. Hux walked through with his head held high and wondering how on earth he was supposed to discern which of the wide eyed, flushed faces were potential Slytherins. His legs were beginning to get tired from the aimless trudging and no one seemed particularly keen on inviting him in.

Finally, he came upon an empty carriage. By this point he was sick of the whole damn lot of them, with their already made friendship groups and mothers crying for them on the platform. He banged the compartment door closed behind him and threw himself on a chair. He stared mutinously at the red brick as it passed in a blur outside of the window.

What seemed like moments later, the door slid open again. A thin face with a mess of long dark hair peeked through the gap like a small creature peeking from a rock. He stared at Hux for a moment and then thrust the doors unceremoniously open.

“You're in my carriage.” The boy announced when he was stood in the doorway, more aggressively than was warranted. Hux raised his eyebrows. _American,_ his mind supplied with a sneer.

“ _Your_ carriage?” He repeated, “Are you quite sure of that?”

Looking annoyed, the boy jabbed his thumb upwards towards the luggage rack with a cage jangling in his other arm.

“My stuff’s there.” He said gruffly, indicating a large and patched trunk that Hux hadn’t noticed, “I had to go back and get my owl. He got out of his cage _again_.”

The small owl in his arms gave a disconsolate hoot. With a jolt, Hux realised that this was the same boy who had been arguing with his mother on the muggle platform. He would have admired his stubbornness but he wasn't sure if he should even be talking to someone so scruffy looking.

“Well, there's room for both of us.” Hux ventured, deciding that he couldn't afford to be too hostile in his currently friendless environment, “Unless you need more room to brush your hair…?” 

The boy scowled at him but set his owl cage on the chair opposite Hux all the same. He made to twist back onto the chair but somehow managed to trip over his spindly legs. An impressive and unexpected stream of swearwords fell from his lips as he grabbed at Hux’s knee to right himself, a sheen of embarrassment on his face.

Hux would have complained at this rough treatment but he found this awkward boy very interesting. He had only ever been allowed to talk to the children his father picked from other noble families and they were snooty at best, dry at worst. It was great fun to be observing Ren like an animal in a zoo and wondering what he might do next.

Silently, they stared out of the glass at the rapidly blurring grey of the buildings, watching as the train chugged its way out of the stifling confines of London. Slowly, the grey of the city was gradually overtaken by the green of the countryside. Hux watched the fields of sheep nosing the grass and patches of flowers blooming with the recent memory of the summer. They moved onto a great bridge overlooking a sparking lake, the mountains deep purple in the distance. Despite the pretty view, his gaze slid back towards the boy.

Peering over at him with the imperiousness that had been his birthright, Hux allowed himself a smile. The boy was tall for eleven but he reckoned he was just about taller. There was something slightly awkward about him; something unsure in the way he perched on the seat with his chin on his hands. He gave a sniff and Hux noticed for the first time the red around his eyes. He was crying, or had been recently.

As if he could sense Hux’s realisation, the boy turned his head to stare further away out of the window. The movement made his long dark curtain of hair fall over his shoulder to reveal large ears. Hastily, knowing Hux had seen he quickly brushed his hair back over them.

“So,” Hux ventured, deciding to spare him a further taunt, “Do you have a name?”

Breath fogging up the window, the boy took a moment to answer, “Ren.” He said eventually, chewing the words as if he wasn't quite sure how to say them, “Kylo Ren.”

Ren. That wasn't a family name Hux was familiar with. Before he could stop himself he wondered if he belonged to a family of blood traitors unworthy of his attention. His father had already given him a painful lecture on what would happen if he made those sorts of friends.

“Are you pure blood?” He might as well get to the meat of it, Hux thought. Ren gave a grimace, eyes closed against the cold glass.

“Mmm.” Ren said vaguely. Hux raised his eyebrows.

“Mmm?” He repeated, mocking him, “That's hardly an adequate answer.”

“It's hardly an adequate question.” Ren turned to him, one cheek sliding on the glass, his dark eyes hard and looking into him in a way he hadn't before, “Not when you don't really care about the answer.”

Furious, Hux opened his mouth to retaliate, to argue. Of course it mattered. He shouldn't mingle with those of lesser blood status. But now he was confronted with an actual person to use them against, for the first time the words he knew he should say tasted strange in his mouth as if put there by someone else

“I'm almost pure blood.” Ren said quietly, “Interpret that how you will. I don't care.”

This Ren was thoroughly irritating and the food trolley hadn't even arrived yet.

“I think,” Hux started, annoyed at this boy’s stupid wise attitude, “That you think I find you more interesting than I actually do.”

At this, Ren gave a snort.

“Yes you do.” He was grinning now, “Or at least, you will do.”

He had a very goofy grin, Hux was pleased to discover. He wasn't used to people grinning at him though and the sensation threw him off a little.

“That's awfully presumptuous of you.” He sniffed, pointedly looking out of the window again.

But Ren just carried on grinning. He seemed much more relaxed now Hux had broken the ice, moving his chin off of his hand as he stared at Hux as if appraising him. It was an odd sort of stare; too intense and too long held for an entirely normal person to do. Hux wondered if Ren was a little bit weird.

They waited for the food trolley to arrive, a fiercely held tradition of the first trip to Hogwarts. Hux had a sandwich but was fully prepared to chuck it away in the wake of sweets. He pulled it out of his bag anyway as lunchtime approached and Ren followed suit, pulling a single chocolate frog from his pocket.

“That's a dismal lunch.” Hux told him, eyeing the purple packaging with disapproval.

“It's not lunch.” Ren said smoothly as he settled it on his seat, “It’s a demonstration.”

“A what-?” Hux began, but his words were immediately cut off as the chocolate frog gave a wiggle and rose upwards from Ren's leg as if hoisted by an invisible string. Ren gave hardly a twitch, his face a perfect mask of calm as the bar moved forwards to hover between them.

“Want some?” He asked innocently, watching Hux’s reaction in a close, guarded sort of way. Hux goggled at him.

“You can't do that.” Hux burst out automatically. “It's…it's not allowed!”

But Ren just lay back on the seat, now lifting the chocolate forwards with a lazy swish of his finger.

“Oh.” He said dispassionately, “That’s inconvenient.”

Hux just stared at him, eyes searching for his wand. But he wasn't holding one. It lay motionless on his lap, the dark wood shiny against his robes. This strange, young mismatched boy was doing wandless magic as if it were nothing. As if it were as easy as breathing.

“Who are you?” Hux demanded, feeling rather unsettled.

“Someone you want to keep around.” Ren suggested.

With a swish the chocolate landed in Hux’s lap. The bright patterned paper stood out against the dark fabric as more of a threat than a peace offering. But Hux wasn't threatened.

“How did you do it?” He leaned forwards, unable to hide his eagerness.

Ren blinked. It was obvious that he had saved this moment, testing the waters to see how this snooty pure blood would take it. He had been certain that Hux would recognise the threat and leave. They always did. The test yielded the same horrified faces each time, the same fear and disapproval. Until now.

“I just…do.” Ren shrugged, oddly pleased by the attention.

He gave a deep breath and Hux’s sandwich floated serenely upwards. Hux stared at it, eyes filled with a hunger the sandwich couldn't satisfy.

“Show me.” Hux demanded, leaning forwards to give him his full attention.

By the time the food trolley came along Ren had levitated many of their possessions lying around the carriage. Quills and paper and even Ren's owl Artoo floated serenely in the air. Ren had his eyes closed at this point as if accessing some deep part of himself where unknown magic lay. Hux watched closely, torn between a fierce jealousy and a begrudging admiration.

Eventually though Ren gave a sudden gasp and the items fell to the floor with a clatter. Hux just managed to catch the owl as it hooted downwards in indignation, his arms full of ruffled feathers.

On his seat Ren was breathing heavily. He had one hand pressed against his temple, but his face was otherwise flushed with the pleasure of being able to share a secret with someone new. Hux saw and also felt an odd urge to smile tug at his lips. He fought it.

“Overdone it?” He asked instead. Ren scrunched up his face.

“Maybe.” Ren replied, sounding rueful, “I get a headache if I do it too much.”

“Well,” Hux said lightly, “If you didn't have limits goodness knows what you could do.”

Ren turned away then to look out of the window, but he was smiling. Hux got the distinct impression that he too didn't have many friends, not if he thought that he could win them by trying to threaten them first. Ren peered back at Hux out of the corner of his eye, looking at him in a different way than he had been before.

“What's your name again?” He asked, sounding almost shy.

“Armitage.” Hux offered. “Armitage Hux.”

When Ren held out his hand and Hux took it, he was struck with a sudden thought.

 _I want him to be in Slytherin,_ Hux realised, _I want to know him._

And then Ren’s gaze flicked up at him as if Hux had uttered the words aloud. But that was absurd. They let go of each other's hands quickly and stared out of the windows again. They were both a little pink cheeked.

Throughout the rest of the journey, Hux was in turmoil. Ren was powerful, yes, but he wasn't entirely sure if power trumped nobility. He could already sense his father's disapproval at him not joining the other well-respected families on the train, but Hux enjoyed sharing sweets from the trolley with Ren. He ate a lot, stuffing chocolate and sweets into his mouth with little grace. But Hux was too overcome with the odd sensation of having someone to share food with to care too much.

When the train began to roll slowly down the track and they both had pulled on their school robes, it already felt too comfortable. Hux felt his father's hand around his throat, squeezing the words he needed to say in.

“I don't like you.” Hux announced suddenly as the train shuddered to a stop.

He knew it was what he should say, what his father would want him to say if he saw this scruffy boy. Ren grinned again, not even slightly offended.

“I don't like you either.” Ren agreed, looking quite pleased, “I really hope we can carry on not liking each other though.”

He reached up to get his trunk, leaving Hux to grin at his own on the floor before he remembered that he shouldn’t be.

 

***

 

The lake was as dark as an oil slick, the moon a streak of white rippling as the boats bobbed past. Hux and Ren had taken a boat together with a tall girl and a small nervous looking boy and all were unable to hide their fascination as the boats propelled themselves forwards. The autumn air was cold and crisp but they leaned over the sides and breathed it in eagerly. Ren trailed a finger in the water and the moon split under his fingers.

Too soon they had reached the castle, heads craned to take in the mullioned windows, the craggy weathered stone. It was difficult not to be impressed, even those who had been brought up in the rich mansions of the pure bloods. The doors to the entrance hall banged open and the first years filed through in a nervous line.

The Great Hall was lit by blazing braziers, flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. The first years huddled in frightened closeness as a tiny spectacled witch stood at the head of them all and peered upwards through enormous spectacles.

“First years!” Professor Kanata called, “It’s time for the Sorting. Come on, follow me.”

The large wooden doors swung open to reveal the majesty of the Great Hall with the four house tables and candles floating serenely above them. The ceiling was ink black, sparkles of stars twinkling down at the first years in that wise way they always did. A sea of curious faces stared at them, a few hands raising as siblings waved at each other. An old patched hat sat on a stool, almost unnoticeable in comparison to the shiny golden plates and goblets.

Throughout it all Hux was beginning to feel frustratingly nervous. He stared down at the floor as the hat sung its silly song, arms crossed firmly as students giggled and roved their curious gazes over the fresh blood in front of them. When the Sorting started he listened numbly to the names, half grateful that he was near the beginning.

It seemed a long way to the old stool when Kanata called out, “Hux, Armitage!”. He felt all of the eyes on him and in that moment hated his distinctive hair, knowing that it set him apart from many others as well as his name. He walked as straight backed as he could and sat down on the stool, pleased that his feet could reach the floor unlike a few others. In a few moments he felt an odd sensation in his mind as if an old forgotten friend was whispering in his ear.

 _Ah._ The voice said, _another Hux. A long line indeed._

Hux couldn’t really think of an answer to this so didn’t bother. The sorting hat waited for a moment and then carried on.

 _Like mother like son,_ it said, _more so than father, I think. She was just as frightened, just as determined to show who she really was._

Again, the unwanted reminder of his mother. Hux gripped the seat now, hating that even a mouldering old hat was managing to make him feel upset. He wanted to shout at someone to just give him a chance, damn it. The hat seemed to catch the thought as it popped into existence.

 _Sly._ The hat whispered in his ear, _And with plenty of ambition. And yet I sense loyalty. So much loyalty if the right person comes along. Red and gold against your hair, perhaps?_

Hux gripped harder, a mixture of fear and irritation taking over him. Irritation won.

 _Put me in Griffindor and I'll make certain you start a new career as a washrag,_ Hux thought before he could stop himself. There was the unmistakable sound of a sniff in his mind.

 _Alright, don't get snippy,_ the hat chastised him, _I_ _was merely speculating._

_Sorry.  
_

_That was almost genuine._ The hat observed, sounding amused. _Slytherin through and through, hmm?_

The last of the hat’s words were taken over by a scattering of applause. Hux realised that it must have shouted the name of his new house without him realising, so engrossed in the swirling of this mysterious mind was he. He yanked it off and tried to stride to his new classmates with as much dignity as he could muster.

The rest of the sorting passed in a blur of names he half recognised but most he did not. He eyed the line of students waiting to be sorted and lingered for a moment on that unmistakeable mop of dark hair. The head turned suddenly and Hux caught a glimpse of the pale, wan face. It seemed that Ren had finally succumbed to his nerves. Good. It was refreshing to know that even he could experience something as mortal as panic.

Was it his imagination or did the teachers look a little nervous when the name “Ren, Kylo!” was called throughout the great hall? The haggard looking teacher with the greying beard certainly sat up a little straighter, his face creased with something that might have been concern. But when the hat was plopped on Ren's head it was held up by his big ears. He certainly didn't look frightening.

The hat was as silent as if it had never been enchanted at all, the rip at the brim closed like a mouth pursing its lips. They waited. And waited. There were a few coughs and small noises as the staff and students shifted uncomfortably in the quietness. Ren sat perfectly motionless, his hands clasped in his lap. And then just as the whispering began a ringing voice called out,

“Slytherin!”

Hux let out a breath he hadn't even known he had been holding as the delayed clapping broke out. Ren threw the hat onto the chair with an oddly flushed face, striding to the table in a blur of black robes. Heads turned to watch him go past but he ignored each one. He settled of course onto the empty chair next to Hux, although Hux refused to turn his head.

The rest of the sorting was fairly uneventful after Ren’s strange performance. Eventually though it was time for the Headmistress to rise up from her grand chair, surveying the students with that calm, careful gaze. Professor Mothma may have had shining silver hair and crinkling laughter lines but she oozed nothing less than power. The students fell silent as she waited for them to stop their chatter.

“Students,” She said in her carrying voice, “Old and new. Welcome to Hogwarts! It is wonderful to see you gathered here for another year.”

A couple of the braver students gave a cheer at this and Professor Mothma returned them a small smile.

“Older students will know the high standards we keep up at this school,” She continued, “And I hope that you can let the newest generation feel as warm and welcome as you once hoped to be."

She turned and there was no mistaking it; for a brief second she stared directly at Ren.

“And the new faces must also be reminded to keep mischief to the minimum. If that’s not too hard, of course.”

There was laughter again, although Ren just looked down at his gold plate. He looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Time to eat, I think.” Mothma said, and sat down with a grand sweep of her pale white robes.

Many of the students cheered again when the shining golden plates and trays filled with food and this time Hux was inclined to agree. He reached for a plate of mashed potato.

“So, same house.” A voice said next him, “Same dorm too, probably.”

Hux’s hand paused on the large silver ladle but he carried on his task. When he served himself a respectable portion of everything around him he turned to the still flushed face.

“Oh,” Hux said lightly, echoing Ren from before, “That’s inconvenient.”

But in reality it felt good to be sat next to someone who appeared half-decent and even more absurdly seemed to like him. Ren saw that he wasn't being serious and his nervous expression faded.

“Ha.” Ren rolled his eyes, “Pass me that tureen.”

The rest of the meal was a rush of excellent food, excited chatter and the great sky roiling above them in a mass of black. Ren seemed unusually quiet and withdrawn but Hux tried to talk to as many people as possible to make up for his failure on the train. Even so, at the end of the meal Ren hovered behind his chair seeming to think he had made a tentative friend. Hux deliberately took his time but in his own way was beginning to wonder the same.

“Do you need a chaperone?” Hux asked as he stepped over the seat.

“Do you?” Ren shot back, “As if you know where the common room is.”

There was too much truth in this to really argue back. Instead they hurried off together behind the tall Slytherin prefect calling, “First Years! First Years this way!”

Past the staircases swinging from one floor to the next, past the quietly whispering portraits that hopped from painting to painting as they waved to old faces and new. The Slytherins walked in a chattering black mass towards the dungeons. Before long they were a dark stone wall and the prefect called confidently, “ _Draconis_!”

The wall receded to reveal a passageway with a faint green light glowing at the end. They filed through and stared with great interest at the plush black chairs, the elaborately carved fireplace emitting the glow with its crackling green flames. The tapestries on the stone walls hung shining with their green and silver trappings showing recordings of the deeds of noteworthy Slytherins. The eyes of embroidered snakes glittered in the half light as they watched them walk past.

It easily could have seemed dark and forbidding but somehow it did not; the dusky turquoise of the underneath of the lake behind the windows was enticing, the whole place filled with a mystery just waiting to be explored. A tentacle waved slowly behind a window to the far right, the Giant Squid seeming to think it only appropriate to welcome the new students too. They gawped back, mesmerised.

When they had their fill of the majesty of the common room, they all split off and Ren and Hux moved up a spiral staircase to the first year dorms. They were joined by the boy from the boat, Mitaka, as well as another Hux was almost certain was called Thanisson. They were all quite tired by this point and chatted lightly before turning to their four-poster beds. Ren was staring wide eyed at the hangings and turned to Hux before jumping in.

“Night.” He said, and then in a slight rush, “Wanna go for breakfast tomorrow?”

An actual invitation, no pretence and no duplicity. Before he could stop himself Hux nodded.

“Don’t lie in.” Hux warned him, “Or I’ll leave without you.”

Ren just laughed and fell behind the hangings. Hux followed suit and spent a little while lay on the plush covers and knowing that he found Ren the most interesting discovery of the day.


End file.
